


Ruby and Silver

by scarrletmoon



Category: Transfusions
Genre: Domestic Fluff, Fluff, Intimacy, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-14
Updated: 2014-10-14
Packaged: 2018-02-21 03:44:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,395
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2453462
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/scarrletmoon/pseuds/scarrletmoon
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dylan's always struggled with being intimate and sometimes he worries that his anxiety will push Joa away.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Ruby and Silver

**Author's Note:**

> So a few weeks ago I found a webcomic so incredibly, mind-blowingly cute that I wheezed for a while afterwards because I'm TOTALLY COOL like that. [Transfusions](http://transfusions.smackjeeves.com/comics/938177/chapter-1-page-1/) is about a guy and his vampire boyfriend. The story follows them as they fall in love and figure out their boundaries and I'm not entirely sure why (it's probably because Dylan is adorable) but I got totally into it. So into it. Too into it. 
> 
> And then I went looking for fan fic and there WASN'T ANY (unless I'm mistaken) so like. This might be the first one. Uh. 
> 
> (I need Transfusions fics like I need air to breathe, please someone, somewhere, _write more fics for this fandom_ ).

There was something about the moonlight on Joa’s skin that made Dylan’s heart ache. He was intimidatingly beautiful, more so in the light that caressed his parted lips, the sharp line of his nose, his pale cheeks. Joa could have anyone, and Dylan knew that; where Dylan stumbled over his words, Joa could charm a crowd to do whatever he wanted. He had a confidence that Dylan could only dream of, the kind of heartbreaking face that lingered in his mind long after he’d passed. But he was also right there in Dylan’s bed, his arm slung over Dylan’s waist, not breathing but strangely warm. This man - ageless, reckless, loving, mischievous- was his, and his alone.

Dylan ached with the urge to touch him. He’d always been bad with touches. Minutes, hours, days later, he would always find himself regretting every missed opportunity. He was so afraid of being rejected that he stopped himself from ever trying.

So why not now? he thought. Why not now while the moon was still rising and they had hours ahead of them still? Why not, he thought, when his heart was beating a hole through his chest and the thought of just lying still for another hour was agonising?

He took a few deep breaths first to steady himself. He felt stupid for doing it - it wasn’t as if he was getting ready to perform surgery - but it helped him to push his doubts out of his mind. He focused on the arm around his waist first, the weight of it, the heat; and then the sharp line of Joa’s collarbone, his throat, the soft red curls around his ear. Dylan reached up and slowly pushed Joa’s fringe out of his eyes, tucked Joa’s hair behind one ear and let his fingers linger there. He could almost imagine Joa’s steady breathing, the rise and fall of his chest, the rose in his cheeks. But he was always deathly still when he slept. Dylan always felt like his own human breathing was too loud, at least until they were kissing and Joa was gasping for air just as much as he was. Dylan absently wondered how that worked as he moved his thumb across Joa’s lips. He didn’t necessarily need the air. Maybe it was just reflexive-

There was a puff of air against Dylan’s thumb suddenly, and he jumped, stopping just short of crying out. His heart thudded so loudly in his ears that it took him a few moments to realise that Joa’s eyes had opened.

"You can keep going,” Joa said. He still sounded sleepy which was doing things to Dylan’s heart that he wa surprisingly okay with. Joa closed his eyes again and tightened his arm around Dylan’s waist. “Go on.” There was a smirk on his face now, and Dylan felt his face flush.

He swallowed nervously. He couldn’t tell if Joa had dropped off again but he must’ve woken up at some point in the middle of being touched. It made Dylan anxious to think that Joa might be judging him. There had to be a limit to Joa’s patience eventually. Everyone always had a limit.

“Quit being so tense,” Joa grumbled, “I’m not going anywhere.”

Dylan nodded, swallowed again, clenched and unclenched his stiff fingers and then jumped again as Joa pressed his palm against the small of Dylan’s back.

“Breathe,” Joa said.

He tried.

Slowly, very slowly, he put his hand on Joa’s waist. Good. That was good. He moved his hand up and down a few times to get used to putting his hand there, and then his heart skipped when he realised that he was pushing Joa’s shirt up slightly at the same time. But his  skin was so different from Dylan’s- paler, obviously, but also colder, smoother, sensitive; Dylan’s fingertips swept past his navel and he twitched, sighed and moved into the touch. Dylan had touched Joa’s face before, and the rest of his body through his clothes, but this was new. This was different and a little terrifying but he liked it. He liked that Joa relaxed under his fingers, liked the unconscious pleased noises he made, the angle his hips made under his skin, the coarse trail of hair that led up to his navel, the dimples in his back, the gentle arc of his spine…

“Dylan…”

“Hmm?”

Joa nuzzled closer, tilted his head so that his lips brushed Dylan’s. The first kiss was dry. a little clumsy and still sleepy. “Dylan,” he said again, brushing the words against Dylan’s mouth, sighing against his tongue, “I love you. You know that, right?”

Dylan wanted to reply but Joa was already kissing him again, pulling his bottom lip between sharp teeth, flicking his tongue over Dylan’s piercing. Dylan sighed deeply and forgot every little thing he’d been anxious about, laid his palm flat against Joa’s back, slipped his thigh between Joa’s legs, pulled their hips together, slid his hand over Joa’s ass without really thinking. Joa gasped and reflexively curled his fingers hard in Dylans hair, pressed into what little space there was left between their bodies, crushed his lips against Dylan’s as if they were the only thing keeping him together. And then they’ve rolled over and Joa was on top, hands braced on either side of Dylan’s head, still kissing hard enough to leave his lips red and swollen. Joa moved his kisses to Dylan’s  jaw as Dylan’s palms slid up Joa’s back. Joa sucked and bit his way down Dylan’s throat, painstakingly, agonisingly slowly, and Dylan’s skin burned wherever his lover’s lips touched. He felt like his heart was going to explode out of his chest and the feeling of Joa’s tongue on his skin was making his entire body shudder, and he still can’t get close enough and he wanted _more_ but suddenly it was just a little too much too fast and he couldn’t _breathe_.  He moved his hands out from under Joa’s shirt and reluctantly pushed him away, started to regret it but knew that it would’ve been worse if he hadn’t stopped.

Joa took in the look on Dylan’s face; he wasn’t sure what Joa saw but after a few seconds he had to look away until he rolled back over onto his side. He had to apologise now, Dylan thought. He had to explain away his pathetic weakness and anxiety, explain that it was all his own fault... but when Dylan actually looked at Joa, he seemed fine; happy, even.

“It’s not that it didn’t feel good,” Dylan began hesitantly. He was twisting his fingers together, he realised, and he tried to stop but couldn’t. “It did. I just…” He took a deep breath and the words got stuck. Suddenly everything he could think to say sounded inadequate; shouldn’t he be okay with the intimacy by now? After these last few months together, how could he go so far but still need to stop?

“Dylan.”

He imagined his eyes looked a little wild and lost when he turned to Joa, but it didn’t seem to surprise him. One hand propped his head up on his pillow while the other soothingly rubbed Dylan’s stomach.

“You’re worrying,” Joa said, lifting his hand to smooth out the creases between Dylan’s eyebrows before dropping back to his stomach. “Stop. I get it.”

Dylan swallowed. “I just thought that by now…”

“If you don’t want to, then  _I_  don’t want to.” Joa shrugged. “It’s not worth it if you’re just doing it for me. I don’t want that.” His voice was so soft. He was never that careful around anyone else, at least not from what Dylan had seen. That voice, this patience was for him. So it was almost disrespectful of him to doubt that Joa would be okay with being pushed away if he wasn’t ready or wasn’t comfortable or changed his mind. He had spent so long thinking that he was a burden that maybe he hadn’t realised that it was possible for someone to want to wait for him.

Dylan opened his mouth to apologise and then thought better of it - there was nothing to apolgise for after all, and he knew that now. He knew that.

“Okay,” he said instead, and there was that little smile that softened Joa’s eyes and made him look so breathtakingly, effortlessly beautiful. “Okay.”

 


End file.
